


Bonds Fraternal

by tendervittles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drugs, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fraternities & Sororities, Half-Sibling Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, Physical Abuse, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-22 23:57:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4855541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendervittles/pseuds/tendervittles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Domeric talks Ramsay into rushing the fraternity traditionally joined by Boltons, while Robb, a freshman, convinces Theon to rush with him.  Things do not go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonds Fraternal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crookedneighbour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/gifts).



> Welcome to my Thramsay/Boltoncest fraternity AU!
> 
> If you enjoy this fic, as well as my others, please consider sharing and donating to my GoFundMe campaign. I'm trying to raise money to go to grad school for a PhD in Sociology! Any little bit helps (and means more fanfiction from me) and I'd really appreciate it! Thanks! Here is the link: gofund.me/gwjzb5sk

"Ramsay," Domeric said, seating himself at the kitchen table, "There's something I need to discuss with you."

Ramsay ignored his half-brother and opened the refrigerator. Florescent light illuminated well-stocked plastic shelves: Premixed salad, a loaf of whole wheat bread (only a slice or two missing), yogurt (vanilla, banana, strawberry), a crisper full of fruit that didn't interest Ramsay in the slightest. A block of mozzarella cheese caught his eye, but he dismissed it in favor of searching the pantry. Domeric had to have a bag of chips hidden somewhere amongst all this health crap.

"Ramsay." Domeric said again, his voice tight, "Sit down. Father asked me to speak with you." 

Ramsay paused in his rooting around the cupboard. Not that he cared what Roose had to say to him, but it was curious that he had asked Domeric to pass along the message. Usually Father ignored Ramsay until he felt his bastard son had made some mistake, and then he preferred to chastise Ramsay himself. If he had sent Domeric to do his dirty work this time, Ramsay could probably get his big brother to take his side and wheedle his way out of punishment.

So he sat.

Domeric watched him from across the table, slender fingers steepled beneath his chin. He looked... well, good. Polished. Even Ramsay had to admit it (grudingly, of course). Domeric exuded an easy confidence that made people like him and listen to him. Smugly, Ramsay reminded himself that there was a whole lot more to Domeric Bolton that only he knew about, and it wasn't all equestrian competitions and orchestra recitals and quiet accomplishment.

"Well?" Ramsay sneered, "What's daddy's little helper got to tell me?"

Domeric sighed and closed his eyes before plunging ahead. "Rush is coming up next week."

Ramsay opened his mouth to end the conversation, but Domeric held a hand up to silence him. 

"It's important to Father - and important to me - that this part of our family's history is preserved. Our traditions are... important."

Domeric fell silent, pensive.

"And your... future sons... couldn't carry on this important tradition for you?"

"It's not certain my future sons will ever exist. Do you know how many sons my mother buried?"

"Enough to put her into an early grave." Ramsay retorted, hoping the crack about Bethany would trigger Domeric's temper and make him forget this whole thing.

But Domeric didn't take the bait and plowed ahead.

"Father gave you his name when you turned eighteen for a reason."

"The reason being that I demanded it. Because I deserve it." Ramsay hiss. He bared his teeth and stared down his older brother, daring him to challenge the veracity of his statement.

“Then don’t you deserve to be held to the same standards as other Boltons? I'll be graduating this year and a new president is going to have voted in. Father and I agree… It should be you.”

Now that surprising. Father and Domeric didn’t often agree on anything that had to do with Ramsay. Ramsay’s stomach growled loudly, filling the silence left by Domeric’s proclamation.

“I’ll make you something to eat while you think it over.” Domeric said. The legs of his chair scrapped against the floor as he stood up. Ramsay listened to him rustling around in the cabinets. 

“There’s just one problem with you and Father’s little plan.” He said finally, “Maybe you’ve forgotten my last two attempts at rushing your frat? Twice failing to get a bid… I’d like to know how you plan to get around that this time, big brother.”

 

Dominic finished filling a pot with water and set it on the shove. “I’ve talked it over with the brothers,” He said, lighting the burner, “It took all summer, but I’ve convinced them… to force you through. As long as you get through rush without doing anything outlandish, you’re in.”

Ramsay barked a laugh. “Oh, well done, Domeric. What if I don’t feel like going along with your scheme? What if I’m even insulted by it?”

“If you don’t go along with it…” Domeric approached Ramsay from behind and stood with his hands on Ramsay’s shoulders, “Father and I will be very disappointed. Father already doubts you’ll be able to do it, and we’re making it so easy for you.”

“I bet you’d like me to make it easy…” Ramsay smirked, looking up at his brother’s face. Domeric’s hair, worn only slightly shoulder than Ramsay’s own, had fallen forward, framing his face. His skin looked pale and smooth, like a statue carved in marble, the exact opposite of Ramsay’s own flushed and blemished visage.

“Oh,” Domeric curled his lips into a closed-mouth smile, his eyes flashing with a dark excitement, “You don’t have to make it easy, baby brother.” His fist closed around a handful of Ramsay’s greasy tresses and pulled. Ramsay’s head snapped backwards and his brother leaned down to capture Ramsay’s lips in a forceful kiss.

Domeric broke the kiss only to empty a box of pasta into the boiling water on the stove. Then he turned back to Ramsay, pulling him up from the chair. Domeric spun Ramsay around forcibly, shoving him down onto the table. Its weak wooden legs shuddered under the sudden increase in weight.

Ramsay struggled against Domeric’s attempts to pin him down. His cock was hard as a diamond under his jeans and a part of him acknowledged that he’d eventually let Domeric have his way, but he had to struggle. It wasn’t the same if he didn’t, and he knew Domeric wanted him to resist — at first.

Even with Ramsay’s attempted defiance, it was over quickly. Domeric had both their pants and briefs around their ankles in what felt like seconds. Ramsay heard wet noises behind him as his brother readied himself. “Hold still now, or you won’t get any dinner.” Domeric hissed in his ear, sounding nothing like that cool, collected front he portrayed for the rest of the world.

Ramsay was starving, and he needed some release too, so he kept still. There was a flash of sharp pain as Domeric pushed himself inside, then building feeling Ramsay couldn’t quite describe, that welled up in him until it reached it’s final crescendo and they came together.

Domeric still held Ramsay down as they both caught their breath. Domeric ran his hands down Ramsay’s sides to his hips, pausing there to pinch and size him. “Still got that freshman fifteen, hmm, baby brother?”

Ramsay growled in response, not yet able to form coherent sentences. 

“Oh, don’t worry.” Ramsay could feel Domeric smiling against his ear. “I like you just the way you are.”

Domeric gave him another hard squeeze, then finally let Ramsay up, hurrying back to finish cooking.

Ramsay had re-dressed himself by the time Domeric set a steaming dish of mac and cheese in front of him. He dug in without hesitation. 

“The first event is next Friday at eight.” Dormeric said, returning to his seat across from Ramsay, “I take it I’ll see you there…?”

Ramsay grunted in response and nodded, his mouth full of food. Domeric smiled his most satisfied smile.

“Good. We’ll be expecting you."

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, there you go. I actually wrote something with the phrase "cock was hard as a diamond" in it, because I'm trash and I feel like that's something Ramsay would think and then be like "wow, what a good metaphor, I'm so clever," because he doesn't realize it's actually simile and he has a high opinion of himself, haha.
> 
> Next chapter... Find out what's going on with Theon!


End file.
